


The Calm Before the Storm

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Series: No Ship Like Partnership, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-01-30
Updated: 2000-01-30
Packaged: 2018-11-11 03:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11140536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: This story is a sequel toThe Sinking Ship.





	The Calm Before the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

The Calm Before the Storm

## The Calm Before the Storm

by Lucy Britt

* * *

No Ship like Partnership: Part Two - The Calm Before the Storm. 

Disclaimer - sadly not mine but Alliance's. 

Ray Kowalski leant back in his favourite armchair and closed his eyes. The cup of coffee in front of him was already cold but nevertheless he stretched his hand out and drank it down with barely a grimace as the bitter liquid flowed down his throat and into a stomach that hadn't seen food for two days. There was nothing in his fridge, hadn't been for a long time and the enthusiasm to actually go out and buy some food was nowhere to be found. 

It had been over a year now since Ray had almost met his death in an alley on the other side of town, over a year since his divorce from Stella and the wound still throbbed with a pain that he thought would never stop. It was time for a change, that much was obvious, today's events had merely confirmed it but was this really what he wanted to do? Did he really want to become someone else? Did he really want to be paired up with some Canuck called Benton Fraser? Jeez, Ray's eyes flew open, what the hell kind of a name was Benton anyway? And another thing that worried him was the fact that no one had seen fit to inform the Mountie of what was going on, he was apparently hundreds of miles away in the wilds of Canada doing whatever Mounties do on vacation and no one seemed to care what might happen when Fraser came back to Chicago to find his partner and friend had vanished and been replaced with some scrawny-arsed cop from the wrong side of the tracks. 

But all these musings were purely academic since Ray had already agreed to take on the assignment, where would have been the point of saying no? Not that he had felt Lieutenant Jack Foster had given him much choice, even while Ray had been sitting in the tiny office turning the pictures of Ray Vecchio and Fraser over in his hands. Foster had been talking like Ray had already made his decision. And when finally Ray had nodded in agreement Foster had leapt to his feet and clasped the younger man's shoulders and then hustled him out of the office to get some celebratory food. 

That had been Ray's last meal two days ago, he hadn't made it into work in all that time and the reason why still made him shake. Not with fear either but with desire and Ray just couldn't get his head round that one, he never would have thought that he was like that, that he would ever appreciate the caresses of another man. The whole idea was inconceivable or at least it had been. Foster had driven Ray back to his apartment block, he barely spoke a word in all that time but Ray made no moves to start a conversation deciding that Foster was merely concentrating on the road. Ray had a lot of respect for his lieutenant, the man had made Ray able to see that there was light at the end of the tunnel after his divorce, twice he had rejected Ray's resignation, always offered after a heavy night's drinking. 

"I know this isn't what you want." Foster had told him the second time, sympathetic green eyes meeting Ray's unfocused blue. 

"How do you know what I want?" Ray had slurred defensively, one hand raking a path through his surprised-looking blonde hair. "Dammit Foster I want to resign." 

Foster had smiled and slowly ripped the letter that Ray had scrawled awkwardly at five that morning up. "Go home," he advised gently, paternally, "take a shower, get some sleep and I'll see you tomorrow morning." 

But as Ray had reached out a hand to open the passenger door Foster reached across him, took the hand and drawn it back. Then, carefully, as though not wanting to startle Ray, he had bent his head down and to one side and let his own lips brush those of the young detective. 

"Wha.." Ray drew himself back but Foster had one arm around his shoulders and simply pulled the man closer. 

"I can't believe it," Foster's eyes were shining and this time when he lowered his head for a kiss Ray reciprocated fully, unable to help himself, he could taste the alcohol on the lieutenant's breath and he savoured it, so this was what it was like to kiss a man, mind-blowing. 

"What don't you believe?" Ray asked, when he surfaced to catch his breath. 

"That you're mine, that you're finally mine. It's been so long since.. since I first realised I wanted you." 

"What took you so long?" Ray could hardly believe that he was asking that question, that he was still in this car, that he hadn't run screaming, metaphorically of course, the minute Foster had taken his hand. 

"You were married and you're under my command." 

Ray glanced down at the pallid mark on the ring finger of his left hand, he had only taken the gold band off two weeks ago. "I'm still under your command." 

"Only for a week," Foster reminded him, "and I just couldn't wait that long. Why do you think I pushed so hard for you to take the transfer?" 

And then Ray had started shaking and found that no matter how hard he tried he couldn't stop. Hysterical laughter bubbled up from his lips but he just kept right on shaking. 

"It's okay," Foster sounded concerned, "I realise this is a lot to take in. Go on, go home. We'll talk about this later." It was with an effort that Ray managed to climb out of the car and he very nearly didn't make it to his apartment at all. But once through the front door he had collapsed into his armchair and had barely moved since. 

And in all that time, forty-eight hours worth, no one had called, no one had checked up on him. "I could be dead in a ditch somewhere," Ray muttered to himself, looking at the empty cup on the table. No, he shook his head, his nerves were already jangling from too much caffeine and he didn't think his body could stand anymore. 

"Ray? Ray Kowalski?" Jeez it was Foster, Foster outside his apartment door, he could hear the jangling of the landlady's keys and Foster talking to her in a low voice. "He hasn't shown up for work in two days.." 

The keys jangled a bit more and Ray leapt to the door and pulled it open. "Foster? Good to see you sir." He pulled the lieutenant inside and smiled sweetly at his landlady before closing the door in her face. Then, before the older man had the chance to say anything Ray kissed him, driving his tongue into the cop's mouth, kissing Foster with a ferocity that left both men gasping for breath. 

"Why didn't you come sooner?" Kowalski demanded angrily. "It's been two days sir." 

Foster smiled and clenched one hand in Ray's hair. "You missed me huh?" His kiss was almost brutal and he drew away before Ray could respond. "I had to give you some time alone. Time to think, make up your own mind." 

"I have." 

"So tell me Kowalski," Foster's grin told Ray that the man already knew the answer to his question, "have you come to any conclusions?" 

"I want you." Three little words but they were enough and suddenly Foster's hands were tearing at his clothes, pulling down the jeans that covered too thin legs, breathing in Ray's scent as he ripped the man's t-shirt off his back. 

Ray had never experienced such an intense rush of emotions at one time before and he hardly noticed Foster pushing him to the floor, Foster ripping off his own trousers but as the two men became one Ray cried out and wrapped his arms around the lieutenant as though he would never let go. 

"The 27th's a good district," Foster murmured once both men's breathing had slowed sufficient for him to draw breath to speak. "You're gonna like it there." 

"It won't be me though." 

"No it won't, but it's not forever, besides you're getting to live another guy's life, how many people ever get to do that?" 

"Well me and Vecchio certainly do," Kowalski drawled, twisting round in Foster's embrace. "I can handle it." 

I know you can." Foster smiled warmly and pulled Ray close in order to kiss him and as he felt Ray's body melt against his own Foster reflected that he had handled matters extraordinarily well. 

His first day at the 27th and Kowalski was nervous, clad in his usual work clothes of jeans and sweatshirt he felt wildly uncomfortable. Vecchio was a suit man but there was no way Ray could bring himself to wear an Armani suit, even supposing he could afford to buy one, it would look out of place and surely the most important thing here was not what he looked like. Hell if it was they would have hardly have picked him for this assignment, it was his attitude that was the all-important thing and the only way to get that right was to feel as comfortable as possible. So why did he feel like someone had poured a nestful of ants down his pants? 

He hadn't heard from Foster for a few days now and that wasn't helping his nerves any either. Foster had stayed with him for twelve hours and the two men had divided their time between making love and sleeping with their bodies twined around each other. Then, reluctantly, Foster had torn himself away and left Ray alone, telling him he needn't bother coming back to work. Ray had taken him at his word but he was surprised not to have heard from the lieutenant, okay so he'd heard that his old district were tied up investigating some big corruption in the mayor's office but he still would have thought that Foster might at least have phoned him. 

"So you're the new Vecchio," Lieutenant Welsh appraised Ray with a twinkle in his eye, "can't be any worse than the last one. That was a joke detective," he added when Ray scowled at him. 

"So um where's the Mountie?" 

"Still on vacation. He'll be back in a week. Time enough for you to get settled in here." 

"I've heard some strange things about him." 

"They're all true," Welsh assured him, "but he's a decent upright guy, you couldn't wish for a better partner." 

Ray nodded but refrained from replying, he was fully determined to make up his own mind about Benton Fraser. 

"Your desk," Welsh said, climbing to his feet and guiding Ray to the office door, "is over there. There's a coupla cases Vecchio was working on still outstanding. You need any help go to Elaine." 

"Thanks," Ray nodded distractedly and wandered across to Vecchio's.. no his desk and sat down. He could feel eyes on him, watching him, drawing conclusions about him but as soon as he looked up all the other detectives in the squad room seemed suddenly fascinated by the paperwork on their desks. 

The morning dragged by, the two cases Vecchio had been working on seemed pretty straightforward. There were constant comments scrawled in pencil on the untidily typed sheets, all of them along the lines of 'Benny thinks' or 'Benny is sure'. Ray closed his eyes and groaned, reaching up to massage his neck, he was getting the distinct impression that Vecchio and Fraser had been joined at the hip. 

His phone rang, first call of the day, Ray smiled. "Vecchio." What he heard made him frown and he glanced up to see Welsh watching him with the vaguest of frowns on his face. Jeez this was all he needed, the first day as Vecchio and Internal Affairs were all over Detective Kowalski's butt. 

"Sort it out Vecchio," Welsh was looking distinctly unhappy, "then get back here. You've got responsibilities now." 

"It's nothing to do with you," the silky smooth voice at the other end of the line had informed him, "we just want to ask you some questions about your lieutenant." 

Except, Ray reflected as he got into his car and reluctantly started the engine, he's not my lieutenant anymore he's my lover. As Ray pulled out into the traffic bearing east out of Chicago he realised with a shudder that if his relationship with Foster got out then he would find himself the subject of an enquiry and there was no way he wanted that to happen. What the hell did Internal Affairs have on Foster anyway and why did they want to talk to him? He was hardly the most senior detective at the district nor the one who worked the closest with Foster, in fact until a week ago he had always seemed to be the one that Foster was bawling out for having committed some minor indiscretion. 

The familiar district carpark was packed and the space that ray had always considered to be his own was occupied. He growled under his breath, forgetting for a moment that he was now merely a visitor and pulled into a vacant space close by. The desk sergeant grinned at him as he walked in but Ray barely acknowledged her greeting, he was far too worried about what he was going to find waiting for him inside Foster's office. 

Inside he found two IA officers and Lieutenant Foster looking, Ray had to admit, guilty as hell. 

"What's this all about sir?" He glanced down at Foster playing the subordinate officer for all his might. 

"Sit down Kowalski." The older of the IA's gestured at a hardbacked chair and Ray obediently sank into it. "Now you are no doubt aware of the corruption that this district has been investigating." 

"Yes sir but.." 

"Allegations have been made concerning your Lieutenant and that he in fact rather than trying to expose the crimes that had taken place was actually using the investigation to cover up his own crimes." 

Ray leapt to his feet indignantly, "no there's no way he'd do that." 

"Sit!" Ray did as he was told, glancing sideways at Foster who refused to meet his eyes. 

"You've worked for Foster for a long time," the younger investigator, whose identity badge said his name was Wilson, fixed steel grey eyes on Ray, "if anyone had noticed anything suspicious it would have been you right?" 

Ray shook his head, "I've got nothing to do with this case." 

"Foster," Wilson stood up, glowering down at Ray, "has embellezed a rather large amount of taxpayers money. Taxpayers that you as a detective are sworn to protect. Now this investigation can and will continue without your input but we would greatly appreciate any help you could give us." 

"I'm sorry," Ray didn't even bother to glance at Foster this time, "but I just don't believe it. Lieutenant," he was careful to stress the title that Wilson had been missing off, "Foster just wouldn't do something like that. He wouldn't use his position to personal advantage. He's one in a million sir. I modelled myself on him. He's the greatest cop I know." 

Wilson seemed less than impressed with Ray's heartfelt litany but he did at least let the detective leave. 

Kowalski couldn't shake the feeling that the vultures from Internal Affairs had had a point. He knew Foster well enough to have seen the glimmer of terror deep in his green eyes and he couldn't stop thinking about what he had been told. Was it true? Could Foster really have been involved in the very corruption that his district was trying so hard to uncover? The question troubled Ray deeply and the fact that Foster had been keeping an obvious distance away from Ray for some days now also troubled the man. But what troubled him the most was the fact that he Stanley Raymond Kowalski had fallen in love for only the second time in his life and that this love, complicated by the fact that he was in love with a man, was quite possibly as doomed as the first had been. But as Ray looked up from his desk and realised the clock on the wall was showing seven p.m. and that most of his shift had already gone home he decided that he didn't care. Foster wasn't guilty no matter what was said. How could the man who he loved possibly do anything wrong? 

Slowly, his head aching, Ray pushed the door of his apartment open. All he wanted to do was get a shower and sit down in front of some baseball on the television. The day had been tiring, so many new names and faces to take in and the strain of remembering that he was Ray Vecchio not Ray Kowalski was quite a lot to bear. 

"Evening." 

It was Foster and Ray gaped at him, his tired brain trying to get a handle on the situation. 

"Your landlady let me in." Foster stood up and Ray rapidly closed the distance between him and his lover, fastening his lips to the older man's with a hunger that brought a gasp of surprise from Foster's lips. 

"Tell me you didn't do it," Ray said eventually, one hand already around Foster's cock. 

"You should know I didn't do it," Foster protested, pulling away from Ray. "I can't believe that you, of all people, would doubt me." 

"I'm sorry. Of course I don't doubt you." Ray took a deep breath. "I love you." 

For a moment Foster looked like he was going to laugh and then he drew Ray close to him. "You really do don't you." Then Foster kissed him and smiled, a smile which Ray eagerly returned. "You're a good kid," Foster muttered, letting his hand play across Ray's chest. Then before the young detective could respond Foster moved away, pulled open the front door and let himself out without saying another word. 

Ray watched him go, his heart aching, his love squashed underfoot and as his confused mind tried to make sense of what had just happened Ray found himself collapsing in tears, crying with an intensity that not even Stella's betrayal had brought forth. 

The End. 


End file.
